This is what a miracle looks like: Last Saturday, on the 24th day of September, 2011, 20 Tanzanian seventh graders - 9 boys & 11 girls - were honored by a community of 1,000 proud & excited onlookers as they celebrated the graduation of our first class from primary school. Dressed in black bowties, pageant-like sashes, and bright blue cardboard graduation caps I bought from the local dollar store, they marched almost-regal to accept their certificates of completion in front of parents, friends, teachers and village leaders. Their excitement and pride was palpable. I wish I could share every last moment with you so that you would feel in your bones the powerful magic your love, generosity, gratitude & hope are making there in the tiny village of Moivaro. I wish you could see how whatever you've done & will do, is altering the course of the universe we share. Making it more beautiful, more loving, more kind, and full of infinitely more possibilities. This my heart knows: these children will change everything. Because of the love you've invested, they will feel more loved, and dare to love more. Because you've invested your hopes in them, they will dare to hope too. On graduation day, that hope shone from each one of their beautiful faces - from the first moments when Leah delivered the valedictory speech, saying:

"For sure, we shall climb the mountains ahead of us..."

to the final moments of the ceremony when they danced to celebrate and thank their parents and teachers, and fed one another pieces from their graduation cake. The younger students, from age 2 through 12, had washed their own clothes by hand with water from the stream the night before in anticipation of such a big day. At the ceremony, they looked up in awe at their departing brothers and sisters, and each class performed or shared a word of advice. While the preschoolers did cartwheels & danced their little hearts out, my favorite performance was this poem from the third graders who in unison recited:

"Graduates, As you make a new beginning in your life, be aware of the important things you learned in school. As you pursue your dreams remember to take time to help and serve others even if doing so slows you down a little. As you explore & develop your pure talents, remain humble, realizing that your abilities are a gift from God. As life hands you challenges, recognize them as a chance to become smarter and stronger. As you acquire material things, know that your most important possessions are honesty, integrity and the desire to make a difference. Congratulations graduates! May your path take you where you want to go and also bring pleasant surprises.

Another favorite? Graduates Leah, Phineas & Gideon singing (and rapping!) their little hearts out performing their own unique adaptation of ONE8's Hands Across the World. As the ceremony came to an end, a local dignitary spoke as the guest of honor. At the conclusion of his speech, he offered 100 bags of cement (worth more than $1,000 USD!) as a graduation gift to be invested in a secondary school where the children can continue their education in Mama Lucy's loving care. In turn, parents, teachers and students began to stream toward the microphone pledging whatever they could - a bag of cement, a metal roofing sheet, a few cents, a few shillings, a few dollars or more. All in all, more than $2,000 was given or pledged that day. As the leader of the parents council said in Swahili when people were too shy to give because they feared they had too little: "many of us have so little - but together, it is so, so much." Amen. The day ended with much less pomp & circumstance than that with which it had begun. After so many local songs and dances, the DJ blared Kenny Rogers at the end of the day. The Coward of the County. I thought Teacher Herman had requested it; he'd told me just the day before that Kenny Rogers was his favorite of all. Turns out, it was just serendipity. A little whisper from heaven for Herman saying, "Teacher, this one's for you." After all the love he's poured into those kids over the past few years, it somehow seemed a fitting end to a truly miraculous day.

Posted: October 4th, 2011 under The Foundry.
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Friday, I delivered a keynote at the Nonprofit 2.0 unconference in Washington, DC.  I'm so grateful to Allyson Kapin, Geoff Livingston & Shireen Mitchell - and sponsors Razoo & Care2 - for the invitation.  As a girl who lives in a tiny little beach town, it was a refreshing, welcome opportunity to have face-to-face conversations with so many people who are thinking deeply about giving, philanthropy and harnessing the power of technology to create radical good in the world.  It made me miss DC & San Francisco where so many of my peers have built their friendships, careers & networks. Truthfully, I fear public speaking.  I've worked up to the point I no longer cry myself to sleep the night before.  But I still stay up to the wee hours of the morning filled with dread and the terrifying suspicion I'm woefully underprepared.  I call Sanjay after midnight asking him to whisper words of reassurance so my nerves will calm enough that I can find a few hours of sleep.  I'm always afraid I'll blank.  Or forget salient points.  Or let down my hosts or my audience.  This talk, though, provided a moment of growth:  with every word, I felt myself letting go of self-doubt.  I had to.  To be present.  In a room filled with so much wisdom and warmth, I realized I that to be fully present, I'd have to surrender the fear I was nursing. Recently, I've been paralyzed by fear. About a week ago, I posted on Facebook "sobbed my guts out last night from pure fear of not being good enough." By some random path I took on the interwebs this weekend inspired, I think, by 5 seconds of an NPR program I heard while parking the car, I landed on a wikipedia article about the Japanese value wabi sabi. I'd never heard the term - but essentially, as best as I can tell, it's an appreciation of the beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent and incomplete." It seems to be a sort of reverence for authenticity - for the fact that true beauty is always flawed - that its flaws make it unique and, therefore beautiful - like handmade items as opposed to those wrought by machine. Perhaps perfection isn't truly beautiful at all, and perhaps our fear of being imperfect is misplaced. Maybe true beauty is always imperfect. Like me. And you. And our work at Epic Change. During my talk at Nonprofit 2.0, I recited the first line from Kahlil Gibran's poem On Pain in the context of sharing the loss that precipitated my finding Mama Lucy and founding Epic Change. As I read these words again, I am reminded that fear & pain often lie at the brink of growth...

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief. Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity: For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

Video of the conversation at Nonprofit 2.0 should be available soon. Until then, if you'd like to know more about what I shared, check out Ami Neiberger-Miller's post that captured her insights & takeaways.

Posted: June 7th, 2011 under The Foundry.
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It's been almost 4 years since Epic Change began. Throughout that time, so many people have had our backs. They've poured their hearts into our work. But I have to admit, at some level, until now, Epic Change always felt like "us". And by "us" I meant Sanjay, Mama Lucy & me. A triumvirate of souls inextricably bound to one another by a superglue of love & common purpose. Our donors & community were a somewhat separate organism that would readily act at our urging, but rarely without our direction. This time was different. I felt like one of many. I felt like part of a team much bigger than me. I felt carried. I wish I could tell you what that feels like. I'm the oldest of four, with all the neuroses of my birth order. I do not readily submit to being helped or held. I am the helper & holder. To be honest, though, for my own health & sanity, and for Epic Change to grow and become, I had to let go a bit. And you gave me permission, by investing the very best of yourselves. I felt like I could rest and eat and play and dance without fear that everything would all fall apart if I looked up from my screen for a minute. For a change, I got to enjoy the ride. Because of you. So many will ask why To Mama With Love 2011 was so successful. Many will wonder how love from across the globe magically morphed into classrooms in Tanzania & Nepal. Of course, we'll run the numbers, analyze our tools and techniques, and reflect studiously on lessons learned. In truth, though, alchemy is probably the only real answer  - a transmutation of this rare blend of extraordinary essential ingredients: Irene's faith. Michael's fervor. Alexandra's kindness. Jon's insistence. Beth's curiosity. Estrella's glow. Debra's spirit. Dave's magnanimity. Carrie's tenderness. Christina's helpfulness. Cate's spunk. Albert's hope. Shelly's verve. Geoff's expertise. Helen's hustle. Carol's enthusiasm. Sanjay's diligence. Akhila's advocacy.  Kristen's grace. Malorie's initiative. Jen's thankfulness. Susan's supportiveness. Addy's excitement. Kimberley's fearlessness. Deb's dedication. Marianne's trust. Fran's generosity. Jen's togetherness. Bonnie's wisdom. Lucy's light. Libby's persistence. Olugbemisola's creativity. Jeff's amplification. Avi's soulfulness. Rebecca's clarity. Shonali's intentionality. Natalie's energy. Megha's patience. Judy's moxie. Pam's willingness. John's playfulness. Robbie's imagination. Emily's activism.  Mickey's consideration. Amy's insight. Devin's encouragement. Diane's commitment. Ann's wholeheartedness. Desiree's thoughtfulness. Ehon's heart. Shivaas' smarts. Lee's friendship. And Lulu's beauty. So many people, too many to count, and far more than I've named here, poured the very best of themselves into To Mama With Love 2011. I am more grateful than you can know. For all the love you poured into the world. For the difference it will make. And for teaching me what might be possible if we dare to allow ourselves to be carried when we feel we just might fall. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

The photo above is of me carrying a tired Gideon Gidori after a long walk along the coast of Tanzania - the first time he ever set eyes on the ocean that lays on his country's beautiful shore.

Posted: May 16th, 2011 under The Foundry.
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